lam.also.can.blog

someone you know, stripling fervor. it sits still and still sitting. you won’t believe what I just found out; I’m losing face to sleep and motion sickness, but I won’t let you down
I could die anytime; I could tell you something sweet that’ll seal that smile,
I could drink too much, I could speak too much, I could judge my luck against your touch. you drew lines across my heart, that’s what you do. it spirals to my lips.

I won’t let you down darling, so let me in… you could turn around, when September comes. if only I had you then, to fill up my hands, I wouldn’t be too scared of dying.

We’re supernumerary, as is, we’re selling succor, late night eyes, more, sometimes atrabilious, coffee and calendars, taking down, open mouthed, just how it titivates, dosage against dotage, plastic creatures of short features, pilots and good mime… we’re divorced, missus, make do.

the drugs, the thievery, the murder
to pronounce it with a lisp, to be photogenic
I smell,
color illustrations and numbers to abide
you think? Second thoughts, weigh
so what did we get from the tapes?
take some mirth,
a little retribution
if you want me
we’ve got letters with spurious pictures of titters
you’d better run with it, into abjurations
filthy lucre, I’m complaisant
that wasn’t what I wanted to say, but I said and meant it…
is there a song I could eat?
you’ve got nothing because you’re nothing, so please let me kill you.

My face is in my pocket, go on, take whatever you need. Ceilings, teeth, fancies, a bagful of eternity, take everything you can. I’m calling you a coward; I’m the thief, you’re just stealing.

Who am I to make a judgment of your life? You know where you came from, you know where I belong. I don’t need you anymore, not today, not tomorrow, not today. I close my eyes and cup my ears, please disappear.

So you’ve got hotels, lines, equestrians, gorgeous lime and lavish vitamins. You’ve got soul, callous scars, carelessly careless, marred and nightly prayers. I’m laying face down under the tracks, some bruises and a pale face of plaint. You’ve got fools, stylish Sunday’s dresses, time and time, letters of love from suitable scions. A million ways to find me here, another million means to disregard. I can’t say cause I’m lazy. God, I’m so tired. You’ve got it rolling, darling but you seem to forget that you were once fallible. I can’t say cause its unceasing travails, I can’t say, I can’t say, I just can’t say.

Claire wrote the saddest part, the bloodstains, the canard warm, the busker and warm. Put together beautifully, with heartbeats and cozen tunes. Claire spoke of late nights with the crew and little perfidy lesbian lovers with nice belts and handbags. Happiness is a fever of good impressions, the concomitant friends of December. Are you afraid to answer me or are you afraid of the answers? Claire, the jejune queen of dope and chill and some ardent donor of a magazine. It’s sinking in with words like golliness. It’s tearing apart with inimical espionage. It’s looking back with modest view, you’re looking back at me. Claire wrote the saddest part, the errant and salient, the ludic times, the murder and times. Do you think you could live in this libation?

Come on, undress and be entertaining. Give me smiles and shivers and smiles in overwhelming gestures. Tricks and wine, a brand new Polaroid camera, nipple tassels of black and pink and black and pink and black. I’m sweet smelling semen tangled in your hair, don’t waste it, taste it. It’s your dry sailor fingers dreaming of me, some names you found unfamiliar. Ordinarily you’d keep my cheeks warm with your chin, you’d let your hair tickle my face. Ordinarily you’d keep me away from the hours, talk a little, maybe breakfast, maybe more coffee. You have some of my skin under your fingernails, three hundred in fifties, somewhere to find me. I have great memories of you, I have great memories of us having great memories. Excuse me; I’m going missing for a while.

You walk through walls; All the people are not here. Where? I just keep on falling into beautiful trouble, Beautiful repetition, Good times and good ties, All the things I didn’t say, And you used me.
My words cast shadows on your faith. Why? Wish away the nightmares, I just gave up, You can keep the garments, And you cannot refuse, And you failed me, Over and over and over, over, over…

I’ll tell you that I just don’t want to know. I’ll tell you that we’ll never change, even when you’ve taken time to look back over your shoulders. It’s better to stay in from the inclement interstices; you should know it better. The saddest parts we foment every time we met, but you radiate more. I had always wanted to be good to you. I had always wanted to… I’ll tell you that tomorrow will always be lovelier. I’ll tell you that I’m just passing by, even when I can’t move on; I’m coveted to stay. The old pictures of you in my pockets, your numbers on speed dial, your spare perfumes, your name still at the side of my lips, it can’t be happening. It’s spinning without us knowing; we must run, we must run, we must run…

Don’t let them hurt you. Understand me, sublunary intent. I’m biddable,
I’m always thinking of warm, maudlin sunny days. There’s nowhere left to run, there and nowhere. I’m protean, tomorrow now, we’re sleeping…